The Cement Man

I used to work as a construction worker, building roads and sidewalks. It was quite boring planting cement and tar down as my 8 hour shift, so us workers liked to talk a lot. One time one of the workers brought up a horrifying story of a worker named Joe Adams. He was working the cement planting shift. He poured buckets of cement on the road while a CAT truck quick dried the cement with 320 degrees heaters under the car to quick-dry it. It also had huge wheels that can get out of undried cement easily, so it was pretty much the road-building machine of the future, for us anyway.

But one time the truck driver became tired as their shift drifted close to 11:00 PM. He decided to put the truck on automatic, and the driver quickly drifted into a deep sleep. He was very careless, but the other worker who was pouring buckets of cement onto the road trying to make it as efficient as possible was working very hard. All the hard work was tiring, and his arms and legs began to feel numb and weak. The driver, still asleep, laid in the front seat asleep listening to old country songs with his old iPod and earphones in his ears. The hard working worker yelled at the driver to stop the truck for an inspection. The truck was on automatic and the driver was sleeping. The confused worker stepped forward a little and yelled, "STOP THE TRUCK!" He leaned too close and lost his balance and fell on his back, sinking into the cement.

As scared as he was he struggled to escape, but the cement was too sticky. He sank further until the truck caught up with him. He screamed and cried "Please stop the truck!" No answer as it kept going. The truck got too close and the huge tires rammed through his body, dislocating and breaking every bone his the body. He was screaming in excruciating pain, but mumbling as the cement began to fill his face. It was painful until he got under the truck. The heater was at 320 degrees and at first it made the worker sweat enough that it could fill several buckets. Then his head touched the heater. He mumbled and screamed so loud it could almost be heard by the driver. But the country songs still blasting and him in a deep sleep, he could not hear a peep.

The heater burnt his bald head black and then ate through layers of the skin until it got to blood as it rushed down his face still in excruciating pain. The cement began to bury him, and the heater only dried it fast. Soon his whole body was covered in hardened cement and the worker's oxygen was cut off. The heater, though, was so strong it still gave the man a feel of burn while suffocating under hardened cement.

The truck passed over the suffocating worker as he suffered a slow and painful death. When the truck hit the edge of the cement line, the truck auto stopped and turned off. The man still asleep woke up an hour later to see the truck had stopped and it was almost 2 AM. In fear of not getting home to see his wife, he grabbed his belongings and dashed out of the truck to his car. He almost didn't even worry about the other worker and what happened to him...

I listened to that story one work day and I thought it was complete bullcrap. There had been accidents before, but this was out of the ordinary and probably made up just to add some scares into a boring shift. I did some later research to find that the man had no family to pay for a funeral and nobody found the body. I thought in fear he is still buried there after all this time. As curious as I was at 11 PM, the same time as the accident, I went to the street still not finished, and what looked like dark dried blood laying in the cracks of the concrete. I felt a shiver go down my spine. As I shined my flashlight to a specific area, I was paralyzed.

There, right in front of me, was a huge opening in the middle of the road with dried blood inside. I felt a tear of sadness glide down my eye until I felt a sharp pain jab into my back. The tear was now of pain. I tried to scream, but I was muted. I could not hear myself, only the sound of ringing. I turned my head to see a man hard to tell in the darkness he was hardened grey with ripped construction clothes with blood stains on them and black spots all over him. His eyesockets were empty and only revealed darkness. I looked down to see a large knife through my back as I fell over. He jumped on top of me, and I was still unable to scream as he slowly peeled my skin off.

I felt it every last part! He left the eyeballs for last, carving them out like pumpkins. I could still feel it and somehow could still see the whole scene happening. I then began to speak. Instead of screaming for help I whimpered, "Why are you doing this?"

I got no response, but instead a message in my head. It was an image of the body under the cement, and in my mind the last words I heard were "Stop the truck."

I was dead, but could somehow see him skin me alive. He made it into a costume and quickly filtered the remaining skeleton and blood into the same pit his dead body was. He then put on the skin and began to shape it like a normal human being. He soon looked exactly like me! Then he reached for a bucket of cement and dumped it on my skeleton, hiding it forever.

He then walked away like nothing happened. Everything went black. This man lurks for foolish and vulnerable victims like me roaming around in the dark, waiting to steal their flesh remains. But the worst part about my death was even when everything was black I could still feel pain. Excruciating pain...